Читать книгу Reconnected - DH Steppler - Страница 9

As we walked through my balcony, Michael stopped, handed me the CDs and then snagged the player. He made concessions for the fact that we were only using one hand, well, actually 2 hands, one of his and one of mine. We had demonstrated that we could work together as one. We made our way to his balcony and found that the dinner was set up on the big table brought out there by the room service staff.

“I’m surprised to see everything set up, I deserted them while they were working. I had no choice. They didn’t get a tip.”

“Don’t worry about it. They’ll charge you a gratuity for the service on your final bill.”

We set up our music; he picked the ‘Simply Red’ CD. The music was perfect. He was ever the gentleman, pulled my chair out and we took our places at the table. We just sat for a minute, getting our bearings. I figured out how we might be able to eat and remain connected.

“Michael, I’d like to try something,” I said.

“Do you think that we could sit on the same side of the table and have our shoulders touching? We would keep our connection and maybe eat with more comfort.”

He agreed to try. We took up positions on the same side of the table facing the balcony. There was definitely concern about a possible disconnect. For added protection and to address that worry, we pushed our chairs firmly together. Our shoulders and arms pressed tightly together before we searched for the ‘go ahead’ in each other’s eyes and unhooked our pinkies. The nervous fear made us laugh but the connection didn’t waver. There came that duo of sighs, deep and content. We smiled at each other, an acceptance smile and turned to our food.

Michael wasn’t kidding when he said it would be a repeat of the night before. Exactly the same food and the same setting, only the conversation would be different.

“Michael, I’m glad you like lobster; I won’t have it again until I take my next cruise. So this is a double treat for me.”

“When’s your next cruise?” Michael asked with a touch of panic in his voice, maybe at the thought of me being unavailable.

“My sister and I try to take a cruise every other year,” I said.

“It takes a year plus to build up the funds for a trip.” I understood his concern for the future - on my mind as well.

“We didn’t talk much last night but maybe we should make an effort to talk. Maybe we can figure out about our connection.”

My voice was nonchalant as I masked the trepidation I felt even mentioning it.

“How about we just eat first,” he suggested.

That gave us both a bit of comfort – put the discussion off for another half hour or so.

Our makeshift connection was working on a basic level. We ate quickly and without much conversation. When Michael started on his second lobster, his frustration boiled over and he slipped his right arm around my left arm – like our hooked pinkies only we had hooked arms. It was a small thing but the affect was immediate and comforting. Again with the duo sighs and matched breathing.

We looked at each other in recognition of the improvement. “Good thinking,” I said, kissing his neck in my mind. At that instant, he glanced at me. God, I thought, can he read my mind? Did he hear my thoughts? I felt the heat from my blush. Could he feel it in the warmth of my body next to him?

“When I’m connected to you, I see no reason to change anything because everything feels right. As a matter of fact, even talking about it feels wrong to me.” He said.

“Even though I know we gotta figure it out.”

I reached for my jello, anticipated the smooth, cool fruity taste and the satisfaction that came with it. At first I didn’t notice, but Michael’s movement caught the corner of my eye. It registered in my slow brain that his actions mirrored my own – no, they were simultaneous with mine. Michael didn’t notice the unison until he ate the jello. Our arms moved in perfect harmony. One bite, taste, swallow, 2nd bite, taste, swallow, 3rd bite, taste, swallow. He stared at me for a moment.

“Helen,” he said my name like it was a possession.

“Have you felt the progression of this situation? Whatever this connection means, you know it’s stronger and more intense with every passing minute.”

“Yes, I’m with you.” My voice was low, timid.

For the entirety of the rest of the CD we didn’t speak. I was trying to piece ideas and events together in some fashion that could help us make sense of it and I could only guess that Michael was doing the same.

In a position where he could change the music, Michael replaced the “Simply Red” album with the Steve Miller Band – just like the night before.

Turning to face me, awkward with the way our arms were intertwined, he unhooked our connected arms and took both of my hands in his – no interruption with our connection. He pulled me to my feet.

“Let’s dance.”

We danced around the balcony locked in a tight dance embrace. It was heady. I felt like I was floating. Our breathing, a bit faster, still matched. I moved ever closer, found a tighter fit. I brought our hands into a tight fist close to our clinging bodies – more – I reached my hands up and around his neck. Without hesitation he put both of his arms around me and pressed us together with a force that surprised and tickled me.

Our sighs came with relief and satisfaction. The balance was back. At first we took advantage of how good it felt to be so close and barely moved to the music. I think Michael had an “ah ha” moment

“I see a pattern – I don’t want to look at it but I feel it and I know you do too.”

He waited for my reaction and what he saw was confusion. I didn’t really understand what he was saying.

“It’s all building to something.” He clarified.

I looked at him and wanted to be supportive but I was still confused; so, he continued.

“I’ve noticed that each time we disconnect, the results are more intense and more immediate.”

Again he looked down at me to get my nod of understanding.

“To reach the same level of calm, we need a closer connection. When we are together like this, the satisfaction nearly makes me giddy.”

He said his next words measured out – a slow question – more to himself than out loud.

“How much closer can we get?”

I didn’t answer. I just laid my head on his chest and shoulder. We sighed. I just wanted to dance like that forever – to feel that good forever. Dance we did and when the tune finished, we waited for the next song by snuggling our bodies together in an effort to gain even more purchase, to strengthen our pact.

When the CD ended, Michael took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes.

“This is heading towards us being one.”

He hesitated for a second and then forged forward.

“I might need to get inside of you.”

He was serious. At any other time in my life I would have started laughing right then and there, but his logic seemed right to me.

In that ‘twilight zone’ his words thrilled me beyond reason and at the same time brought me a new fear – the fear that I might have to break my marriage vows. But could I do that?

My mind went there, and I reasoned: If it’s so good in his arms…and it was so good in his arms, how much better to make the complete connection – oh my God, what would that be like? My head burned with the thought of it.

As I pictured us completely connecting, I felt his arms tighten around me. Oy, that was nice. If he couldn’t read my mind, he could still read my body. My body was saying yes.

“I have honestly never felt anything like this before and even though I’m afraid – no, not afraid but concerned where we’re going. I’d be utterly inconsolable to have missed feeling this way – so completely at peace, in balance, stronger, smarter, more of a man, and better at everything. But, note this: there are some things that I’m already very good at.”

There was a masculine smugness in his voice.

“The experience is very much the same for me, Michael. I’ve never felt this soft on the inside or been this drawn to anyone. My senses have never been so alert, even electrified.”

The animal attraction could not be denied. Locked in his arms, I didn’t deny it and neither did he. We were distracted from our research as we relished the feel of each other. Our minds drifted in the contentment.

Each time the music ended we would reaffirm our need to figure it all out, only to be taken away again as soon as the next tune took us with a renewed hold. A couple of times during the musical interlude, we would mean to say something to add to what we already understood, only to laugh at ourselves because we waited to long and the music began again.

“We dance well together,” Michael commented.

“I’ve never felt this free – it’s probably because when I move, you move, you follow so well, I don’t feel as though I even have to think.”

He hesitated, perhaps, gauging my reaction before he continued.

“If we dance this well together, I bet we’d be champions at other stuff, too.”

He wasn’t masking what was on his mind?

“No doubt,” I replied in a distracted whisper.

That was the third time that Michael mentioned the next step for us in regards to our connection, the next step closer. That required some thought and discussion. I was worried that I’d have to do the right thing. I’d struggle with what the right thing was.

I’d not been thinking straight. Even though I got dizzy and sick when we weren’t connected, I’d a difficult time with mental control when we were closely connected. When the connection was strong, I lost my sense of inhibition and propriety. My brain seemed to forfeit my good reasoning skills. My much guarded vows – you know what a vow is – it’s a promise with God as the witness. Even though the need was clawing at me and the temptation was absolute, I reminded myself that I didn’t want to be less. The strength enough to honor my own values was what I needed. On the other hand, there was worry that I’d pass up something that happens once in a life time, that I’d miss out on the surprises in life that made it all worth while.

As a slave to my own beliefs, would I miss the good and exciting things in life because I thought I was above it all? I’m not a “goody two shoes” and don’t wish to be but I do have high moral standards and hold myself to them. The question here was ‘Could sickness cause one to need to break one’s vows’? Anticipating breaking my vows, I hoped to be so sick that I’d have to break my vows to survive. Someone was going to have to do a lot of talking to convince me that I shouldn’t break those vows. Someone would have to convince me that there was even a God to care if I broke those vows.

We held ourselves close to each other. It felt good and safe but my brain seemed foggy. My thoughts were difficult to organize. The stress of trying to sort out my thoughts was frustrating and fruitless. For a time, I let my brain go blank I didn’t want to struggle with it. I just wanted to be held tightly and to be led around the dance floor. I felt him adjust his grip as he propelled us into repeating circles.

My focus went to him, to his feet and legs, the way they touched mine indicating our intended direction. I loved to dance but it had never been that easy before or so natural with every step evenly gliding into the next. His hands were firm and authoritative with just the smallest amount of pressure to let me know his objective. The whole team process was effortless; I didn’t’ need to think in order to execute his choices.

My brain could focus on the way the phenomenon felt, the way my body reacted to the minutest change in pressure; there was no hesitation, just the recognition and the execution. The tune was winding down and I anticipated a change. Michael moved his right hand to the center of my back and dipped me deeply at the climax. As he brought me back up, a squeal of pure joy escaped my lips which made him laugh. His laugh, a sweet sound, gave me even more pleasure.

Until the next selection started we remained wrapped tightly in each other’s arms. I had my arms around his neck with my hands cradling his head, fingers in his hair, his head was tucked into the corner of my neck and his arms wound snuggly around my waist. Just before the music started, I felt a very strange déjà vu like – another memory to tuck away for future examination. We waited for the music to begin again.

“I’ve been thinking,” Michael started, “about how we are going to get through the night.”

Then pressed his lips to my hair and kissed me – a possessive gesture, perhaps.

Quite sure that Michael was having his own thoughts about how we would spend the night, I formed a simple plan.

“Michael,” I began slowly, wanting his full attention and because I was still trying to hold my focus.

“How about an old fashioned sleep over, under the stars, on my balcony, the two chaise lounges, pillows, blankets, music, and maybe drinks and pinkies, talk …?”

That felt like a conscious well presented thought. I had a moment of clarity; crap, does that mean I’m not really a slave to my baser animal needs?

He barely hesitated.

“That’s a plan.”

There was comfort for both of us in knowing that we had a small part of the future planned. We could relax and enjoy the evening. The music started, renewing our grips, we responded like we were one. How easy it was to match and to counter his movement. Then I was aware of his breath on my neck, conversation was out at that point. The fog returned there wasn’t a coherent thought in my head. There was only the exhilaration of the shared experience, the dance.

The bliss continued until the music ended – well, maybe a bit after the music ended. It took us awhile before we realized that the music had indeed ended. For, what was possibly a very long time, we stood locked in a tight embrace, each point of contact a heated haze of electric attractions and reactions, effected by every tiny change in pressure and temperature, stimulating nerve ends and raising goose bumps, causing thirst, needing more and waiting for the next tune to begin.

Michael was the first to come around.

“Shall I put another CD in?”

He stepped back to see the look on my face as I responded. When he stepped back, he created open space between us. For me that gap cleared the foggy curtain in my brain. He saw something in my eyes and stepped back into me just as I raised my hand to stop him. I needed to keep the clarity for a moment. There was no ebb in our connection but we did have a modicum of distance between us.

I took advantage of the lucidity to make my needs known. I could sink into that desire and not be able to come out of it but control was very important to me and necessary for my principled life. Sometimes we have to do stuff that doesn’t feel so good but its right so we do it or in this case don’t do it.

“I’d like to set up our sleep over and get to that. We can do most of it together; we’ll only have to separate for 2 minutes, tops.”

“An immediate plan,” he said. “Let’s execute.”

We cleared the dinner onto the trays and set them outside the cabin door; gathered the music and the CD player and took them to my balcony; then back to Michael’s stateroom for his bedding, sundry kit, and pajamas.

Michael put his blankets and pillows on one of the lounges as he followed me into my stateroom, pinkies hooked. I gathered my pajamas and put his kit in our bathroom. We then stripped my bed and took the blankets and pillows out to our bedroom under the stars. Michael thought of something and dashed, dragging me along, back to his stateroom where he retrieved a bottle of wine from the fridge.

“This’ll be good to have tonight.”

Next we had to figure out the dilemma of getting out of our dressy clothes and getting into our pajamas in privacy. I had a thought, praise be, I could think again.

I said, “Maybe we could experiment with proximity and the connection. I mean, maybe I could dress in the bathroom leaning against the door you could be on the other side in contact with the door. Maybe it’s like a current that can be conducted through other objects. Understand?”

He caught my thought instantly and recognized the possibility.

I gathered my pj’s and we headed for the wardrobe. While we were still linked physically, I kicked off my shoes and asked Michael to get the zipper at the back of my dress knowing that I could get the dress off without unzipping it; after all, it was already zipped when I put it on. So, I’m not actually sure what that was all about. Maybe I just wanted to feel his hands on my skin. Maybe that was my form of a tease.

But before I could get through the bathroom door, Michael stopped me and turned me around so that we were facing each other. He put my arms around his neck and hugged me with the force of a gentle bear. The closeness sent me reeling again.

He whispered into my ear.

“I just need a little fortification to tide me over.”

We buried our faces in each other and breathed deeply, taking in our joined scents. Both of us sighing I went into the bathroom and closed the door; immediately leaned against it.

It took nearly no time to remove the dress and underwear and slip on my pajama bottoms and then; I threw the top on and buttoned it quickly. Nervous and didn’t want to chance being away too long I held off brushing my teeth until I saw how Michael was doing on the other side of the door.

Stepping out, Michael was ready for me and he wasn’t looking for a pinkie hook up; he went for the full body connection again. Even if I wanted to protest, I couldn’t. I’d already forgotten where I was and wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers found his hair; I cuddled my face into the curve of his neck. I was instantly his partner again, responded by following his lead. Our hearts were beating faster and in unison. Our combined heavy breathing was intoxicating; it took us further into the dream. His hands explored the feel of the silk on my back and shoulders, he wanted closer. Oh, God, I was so needy and weak; I wanted that, too.

We heard a disturbance from the other side of the cabin door. Our reactions were the same; we jumped away from each other but held hidden hands. That action left us both in pain, like we were ripped apart, it was just wrong. I stepped in closer to Michael and whispered in his ear.

“Relax, shhh, it’s Denice.”

The proximity was a help but any closer and I would lose my free will. The door thing was working for me. Yes, I’ll admit that I was feeling a bit nervous but I didn’t get dizzy or sick to my stomach or want to cry – but he was having a full-on panic attack. I tucked that away for a future look-see.

When I pulled the door open, Denice turned away from me for a moment; I could tell that she was talking to someone. She came through the door and closed it behind her. She didn’t wait to catch her breath.

“Hellie, I need to ask you for a favor.”

She cooed. Yeah, she can coo even a bit winded, actually it’s cute.

Michael and I both chuckled at her delivery. There was silence for a while as Denice sorted out how to ask her favor. She looked straight down at the floor and got distracted by her toenail polish, for just a brief second of time. Enough time that Michael squeezed my hand to get my attention. I squeezed back but otherwise ignored him and focused on Denice.

While Denice was thinking, Michael, looking all fine in his tuxedo, reached into the little bathroom and retrieved his sundry kit and waited behind me in the wardrobe, holding my hand and leaning into me. Pushing him away from me with my butt had an interesting effect on him. He didn’t have to lean into me for me to be able to feel him. It was mildly funny but if he didn’t watch himself, I would’ve exposed him to Ma Soeure.

Denice looked at me, head tilted to one side and said.

“Manny’s with the trouble in his cabin and, stay here once.”

Ok, that’s a demonstration of some of her language. I don’t speak ‘Deanese’, but I do understand it.

I said, “That’s fine, we were planning on sleeping on the balcony under the stars, anyway; it’ll be no inconvenience to move our cots to Michael’s balcony.

“Right Michael,” I thought I should ask. He was still trying to function with a chubby but he managed to give me a positive nod.

That was the first time in our exchange that Denice understood that Michael was there. She was instantly composed.

“Hi Mike. I didn’t know you were there.” She said blankly.

“It’s good to see you again. Thank you for offering the use of your balcony tonight for Hellie.”

Oh, thanks Denice that made me sound like a puppy suffering banishment to the balcony for acts not acceptable to the humans inside.

Michael looked at me for a long moment and then replied very slowly to Denice.

“Yes I can make room for her in a corner.”

I looked at Michael and then at Denice and said, “thanks…” They both laughed.

Waiting and allowing Michael the decision of when to move; he was the one with the physical problem, after all. I got my sundry bag from the bathroom, mine was about 4 times the size of Michael’s, grabbed a fresh set of clothes, my slippers and my book. We left the stateroom in single file after Michael managed to work his way around me and take the lead. He was good at taking the lead. On the way out, I stopped to get us a snack bag and to make sure I had access to my Pinky. I turned and gave Denice my best “sister you are a bad girl” smile and oddly enough she gave it back to me.

We closed the curtain and the door to the slider, gave her as much privacy as possible when we left the cabin. It took only minutes to schlep our stuff over to his balcony and then a few more minutes to set up our “outside room.” It was cozy.

Michael opened the wine and poured a full glass for each of us. I was thirsty and drank it like water. He did the same and then refilled our glasses. Michael selected a CD and we toasted the day. Together like conjoined twins, we raised our glasses and gave my favorite toast, “Cheers, thanks a lot eh?”

Michael pulled me into his stateroom and started to undress. He took off the jacket and pointed to the hanger it needed to be on. Together we hung it back up. Michael removed his tie and shirt and together we put them back in the wardrobe. Michael’s pajamas were just a pair of boxer shorts which he put on in front of me.

We then settled on our cots and were astounded by the sheer number and brightness of the stars. Not a cloud in the sky and the stars twinkled in the darkness. That was one of those moments that needed to be recorded as a superlative event in life and, of course, shared with someone special.

I finished off my wine and closed my eyes.

After a minute, I opened my eyes.

“I have to go pee and these lounges are too far apart.” I whined.

Michael agreed and we moved our cots closer together. I used his bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face and to moisturize. Michael stayed right with me the entire time I was performing my night time maintenance routine. Except when I used the toilet, I made him wait on the other side of the door. I kept in contact with the door and so did he. He didn’t like it. When he heard the toilet flush, he opened the door and rushed into the bathroom, running into me with determination and wrapped me up in his arms while I was trying to wash my hands. I just let him hang on while I finished up drying my hands and applying lotion. Then I turned around in his embrace and stretched my arms around his waist. We held that pose for a couple of minutes. It was nice to feel the reconnect after any amount of time separated. My turn to search for his pinkie; I found it and hooked up.

After we lay back down, made sure our pinkies were hooked, took our duet of deep breaths, the sign that it was ok to go to sleep and welcomed dreamland. It’d been a strange day.

Sometime in the middle of the night dreamland turned erotic. I couldn’t make out faces or even complete shapes but the voices were husky and filled with desire and intent. Somewhere deep inside my dream was the scent of wild honeysuckle; it made my belly quiver. It was so close I could in point of fact taste it on my tongue, sweet and delicious.

I heard a familiar sound; Michael was snoring near by – very near by. I opened my eyes to find Michael snuggled in close to me on my cot. I instinctively gave him more room and he rolled into the curve of my shoulder and turned his body sidewise, his face inches from my own; he took up very little room on the cot, his breath intoxicating to the point of utter distraction. Even though I could move, I felt as though I were penned down. It wasn’t uncomfortable quite the contrary, felt secure and protected. That was the connection, it was all good.

Protected his body with my warm blanket then placed my left hand on the back of his head; maybe that was my possessive and comforting move. I could clearly hear his heartbeat as it beat exactly like mine. Snuggled in as close as I could get and closed my eyes; I was out in only a minute. Picking up where I left off in my erotic dream with shapeless and faceless figures shocking me with caressing feathers, stimulating me without my permission. I could have said something, even in my dream to resist but was afraid if I moved they would go away. I wanted them to continue caressing me and I wanted to give them my consent.

When I woke up, I was still cuddled up to Michael, my arms around his waist, my head tucked into the crook of his arm pit and both of his arms wrapped around me. I don’t ever remember moving – I have no recollection of how we got into that position. Again, it wasn’t awful, quite the contrary, I felt rested and soothed. Trying to remember the events of the night though was like trying to catch fireflies that blinked and disappeared as soon as they were seen. So we left the night behind us and looked to the lazy 4^th day aboard ship.